


Stigmata

by sinfulchihuahua0602



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Gen, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfulchihuahua0602/pseuds/sinfulchihuahua0602
Summary: Prompt:In an attempt to thwart Lucifer's ascension to power (and in a fit of hubris), a group of anti-Lucifer mutineers kidnap Sam and take particular smug joy in crucifying him, a la Jesus. Things don't go as planned, though, as the more Sam suffers, the more potent his powers. No sacrificial lamb, this true vessel.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: King of Hell Sam Winchester's Birthday Promptfic* Extravaganza!





	Stigmata

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [abitingsmile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abitingsmile/pseuds/abitingsmile) in the [Antichristmas_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Antichristmas_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> In an attempt to thwart Lucifer's ascension to power (and in a fit of hubris), a group of anti-Lucifer mutineers kidnap Sam and take particular smug joy in crucifying him, a la Jesus. Things don't go as planned, though, as the more Sam suffers, the more potent his powers. No sacrificial lamb, this true vessel.

The men around Sam watch as the nails are pounded into his hands and feet. Sam counts the strikes of the hammer and ignores their jeers and taunts. 

_ One.  _ Sam feels the white-hot pain burn through his hand and arm; he hears the blood pounding in his ears. His head thumps back against the cross as he yells. 

_ Two.  _ The nail in his hand digs into the wood and sharp pain shoots through his empty stomach; he knows exactly where the nail is in his hand by the throbbing pain around it. 

_ Three.  _ They’ve finished with the first nail; Sam can feel something awakening inside him, stirring like a sleeping beast. He had felt it before, of course; he’d felt it when they starved him and when they hit him with stones. This is the first time it’s stirred, though, and Sam is curious as to what it can do, how it will save him from this cruel crucifixion. 

_ Four.  _ The second nail sends pain shooting through his other arm; Sam has long since lost the ability to tell the difference between the blood pounding in his ears and his screams of pain. They haven’t, though; they take smug satisfaction from seeing Lucifer’s true vessel suffer.  _ Bastards, _ he thinks, and he is normally so patient and forgiving that he’d think he deserves this, but he knows he doesn’t and something in him wants to make them  _ pay.  _

_ Five.  _ The beast growls softly in him as it wakes; he feels his body warm at the anger coursing through him. Sam screams and he can’t tell whether it’s from pain or rage. 

_ Six.  _ The second nail makes its way home in his hand and Sam feels heat now, burning through him alongside his rage and pain. The beast is standing, now, and both it and Sam know the exact places of both of the nails stabbing through their skin. 

_ Seven.  _ The third nail goes through both their feet; Sam’s scream is just a bit on the wrong side of inhuman as the beast stretches and arches. Sam’s entire body is burning, scorching; he thinks of what it would look like to see the men burning as he was. 

_ Eight.  _ Sam can’t distinguish between the pain, the heat, the rage, and the beast’s power coursing through him; it all blends together. He vaguely registers screams other than his; he wonders if they’re the screams of the men crucifying him. He wishes they were; he wishes with a will as fierce as the pain shooting through his whole body. 

_ Nine.  _ The beast roars with him as Sam screams, now, and so do the men. The men scream and Sam feels new pain shooting through him as the nails work their way out, backwards; they shoot out of the cross and arc through the air. The screams cut off and Sam doesn’t have time to open his eyes or register what’s happening before he falls off the cross, onto the grass in front of him. He distantly thinks that  _ at least they’re not crucifying him _ before he passes out. 

Dean finds where Sam was three hours later, thirty men dead in a fan-shape in front of the cross, Sam nowhere to be found, and the grass within a two mile radius scorched black. He bends down to study the corpses and finds holes cut clean through their palms and feet; he vaguely remembers reading about the stigmata. He never thought it was real, or that Sam would cause it, though, and as he stands in the middle of a field of thirty-something corpses, he wonders what his brother has become. He doesn't know if he wants to find out.


End file.
